


1949

by ihadadate



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Anger, Grief/Mourning, Holocaust, Loss, Minor Character Death, Post-World War II, Slight Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihadadate/pseuds/ihadadate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Magnificent, isn't she? I first saw her in 1949. America was going to be the land of tolerance. Peace." Max Eisenhardt immigrates to the United States.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1949

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of nowhere, but the idea came from a quote from the first X-Men movie by Magneto himself. There is some slight canon divergence, mainly it's just Magneto's name. I used his birth name and use his some of his family members who you could read in X-Men: Magneto Testament.
> 
> Based on the quote: "Magnificent, isn't she [Statue of Liberty]? I first saw her in 1949. America was going to be the land of tolerance. Peace."

Max Eisenhardt left Europe as soon as he could.

He couldn't stay there anymore. Not when mama and papa were dead. Not when Uncle Erich was dead. Not when Ruthie was dead.

Max's family was dead and it pained him so. He couldn't bear it. Papa, Uncle Erich and Ruthie died in the camps while Klaus Schmidt killed mama right in front of him. All because he couldn't get a Nazi coin to move. It was his fault that mama had died. Why couldn't he just move the coin?

The war ended four years ago. It was four years since the camps have been liberated and it was still four years later where Max still had to deal with the discrimination of being a Jew. At least he did not have to deal with it as much as other people, since no one could tell that he was a Jew unless they really looked at him or saw his ID number that was tattooed in the inside of his forearm. No one ever saw it, however, since he always wore long sleeves.

Prisoner #214782. That's all the Nazis knew him as: a number, an experiment. They had taken away his identity. He wasn't the only one. They took  _millions_ of identities away. They erased his brothers and sisters from existence. As much as the thought made him angry, Max knew that they would all get their vengeance on the ones that had murdered them. In fact, the vengeance had already started.

Klaus Schmidt had fled Auschwitz before the Allied Forces liberated the death camp. Max had wanted to track the man down and kill him, but the young man had no idea where to start. So, he started with his Nazi associates. Many of them, Max had killed.

For now though, the nineteen-year-old decided that he needed to leave Europe. He wasn't sure on where to go to at first, but a man at a bar had suggested that he could go to the United States of America, the land of promises, tolerance and peace.

Max thought that he could never do peace. It could  _never_  be an option for him. Not when his number one enemy was out and about somewhere and up to no good. Not when he and his brothers and sisters have been discriminated, and always well be. His mission wasn't just for him, it was for all who had been done wrong.

These thoughts passed through his mind as the ship he was on passed the Statue of Liberty. She was magnificent to look at. The words from the man from the bar ran through Max's mind again: promises, tolerance and peace. The words made him wary now.

Max had decided that he needed to start his life over. He needed a clean slate. The Nazis may have stolen his identity, but he will reclaim it. Just with a new and different name. When the man behind that desk asked him for his name, Max gave it to him.

"Erik Lehnsherr."


End file.
